


Pink

by Angelophany



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, May turn this into a multi chapter fic, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 11:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15662766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelophany/pseuds/Angelophany
Summary: Frank encounters a pink haired lady at the diner.





	Pink

Pink was suddenly Frank Castle's favourite colour. He didn't know how or when it happened but suddenly he knew the difference between fuchsia and magenta - and hell, that scared him.

It was a quiet Friday night in Maggie's diner when they met. Two lost souls drowning their sorrows with coffee and cake. Two lost souls who longed for a place to call home, and who'd have thought they'd find it in a stinky old diner?

Wild pink hair. It was staring Frank straight in the face as he entered his usual 8 o'clock haunt.

Bright pink curls framed her round face and he watched, captivated, as a strand bounced against her cheek while she laughed at something the waitress said. Her face was round, attractive, with rose tinted cheeks and a red tipped button nose, bitten from the cold. His gaze moved to her hands, wrapped tightly around her mug of coffee while her fingertips tapped against the porcelain. Pink nails, Frank noticed. They were a darker shade than her hair but shiny pink none the less.

She'd stopped laughing now and was looking right at him. The waitress motioned to Frank, excusing herself from the pink haired lady to come and take his order.

He froze, had he been caught staring?

"Your usual, honey?" The waitress asked.

"Yes please, ma'm." He shuffled slightly but kept his reply polite.

"I'll be right on it." She replied, turning to retreat back to the counter before stopping to place a hand on Frank's shoulder. "Y'know its rude to stare, don't ya?" She teased.

"Wasn't staring at no one, miss."

She hummed in response and gave Frank an unbelieving look before turning to get his order - leaving him standing in the middle of the diner, slightly flushed.

He stole a glance at the pink haired woman before taking a seat at the back of the diner; the soft pink still within his sight.

In all of Frank's life, he'd never known a woman be so bold to dye her hair a colour that wasn't natural. He knew teens were doing it these days to be cool but the woman before him seemed mature in both age and nature.

He watched her for a few moments before the waitress returned with his coffee, quickly lowering his gaze as she reached the table so he wasn't caught staring again.

"She's a crazy little firecracker, that one. Heart of gold though, I'll tell you that for sure. Don't let the pink scare ya." She told him, setting down his coffee and leaving before he could respond.

Crazy little firecracker? Frank laughed to himself at her words. He was even more intrigued now.

*************************************************

”You know he's been staring at you ever since he come in that door right?" Nica, your waitress, whispered as she set down your fresh cup of coffee.

"Comes with the hair I guess." You shrugged.

You were used to people staring and making comments at you because of the colour of your hair, but this felt different. Intense.

Nica motioned to the man behind you, daring you to take a look. "Just look at him. He's never like this! Usually comes in for his coffee and keeps his head down." She explained.

You turned to take a look at the stranger. His eyes were fixed on your hair, glazed over like he was in a daze. You coughed, hoping to shake whatever trance he was in, and it worked. His eyes moved to yours before darting down to the coffee cup in his hand.

He was cute, you thought to yourself. Black clothes and baseball cap and all. You watched him take a sip of his coffee and look out of the window, avoiding your gaze. Placing his mug back on the table he rubbed his chin nervously, before meeting your eyes with his own. You offered him a smile, and surprisingly he returned. Small, but still a smile.

You turned back to Nica, giddy almost. “He’s kind of cute.”

“If you’re into dark, creepy kind of cute then sure.” She laughed. “I’ll leave you guys to this weird staring competition you’ve got going on, yeah?” She teased, winking before making her way to another customer.

You shook your head and laughed. You didn’t find anything creepy about the man. To others the way he’d been watching you might be considered a little odd, but you were used to stares from strangers and nothing in his eyes seemed creepy to you.

He was attractive. Stubble graced his sharp jaw and his lips looked soft, his bottom one pouting out ever so slightly. His nose, although looking like it had been broken a fair few times, was strong and endearing; you wondered how he’d broken it and how many times. His eyes were a deep chocolate brown, his gaze was stern but you saw a flicker of warmth when yours had met his.

You wondered what a man like him would be doing sat in a diner on a Friday night. Didn’t he have a wife and family to go home to? What about friends he went to bars with? You found yourself wondering about the life of this stranger. You figured he was thinking the same about you.

*************************************************

Frank’s cup had been empty for the best part of half an hour. He didn’t care. He found himself distracted by the mysterious woman before him. He knew it was wrong to stare so much but he couldn’t help himself.

He admired her almost, how she expressed herself so openly and didn’t seem to care about the glare she was getting from the elderly couple in the booth next to hers. They were staring at her hair, judging her. How dare they, he almost thought, before realising he was doing the exact same. He hoped he wasn’t coming across like the couple next to her, he wasn’t judging, he was interested.He wanted to ask her so many questions. Why pink? Why even dye it in the first place? What was her story? He wanted to know her. The sound of coffee being poured pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Figured you could use a top up.” It was Nica, the waitress.

“Thank you ma’m.”

She laughed. “Viv is gonna love you! You’re always so polite.”

“Viv?” Frank asked, confused.

“Yes Viv, the woman you’ve been staring at for the last hour.” She smirked. “Go talk to her Mr. She ‘ain’t gonna be sat there forever.”

Frank thought about it. Hell, he’d been thinking about it for the past 20 minutes. Would she even be interested in a man like him? If she knew who he really was then she’d run a mile. He was Frank Castle. The Punisher, he reminded himself. He could never live a normal life. He never even thought he’d look at another woman after Maria, and then there was Karen. He’d lost his Maria and he failed to keep Karen safe. How would this woman be any different? He deserved to be alone, he told himself. Everyone he got close to ended up hurt or dead. He needed to stay alone, but god was he lonely. Karen had helped pull him out of the darkness, she was bright and innocent but he’d tainted that when he’d gotten involved. He wouldn’t do it again.

Frank looked over at the table where Viv was sitting, she was gone. She’d left and he was too deep in his thoughts to notice. Maybe it was for the best. It was best not to get involved then she wouldn’t end up hurt, or worse.He sighed, torn between feeling regret for missing his chance to speak to her and feeling glad that this way she wouldn’t get hurt. Neither of them would get hurt. Finishing the last of his coffee, Frank sat for a moment. Maybe it was best that he left Hells Kitchen and started somewhere new, somewhere quiet. That way he could be alone and start to rebuild what was left of his life. He was done being ‘the Punisher’ and everyone who’d hurt him and his family were gone. He had no reason to stay. Standing and stretching his legs, he slid out of the booth and made his way to the exit. He’d leave, he decided. It was for the best.

As he was about to leave the diner, Nica called for him.

“Hey Mr! You left this.” She held a somewhat crumpled napkin out to him.

Confused, he looked at the napkin then back at her.

“Just take it.” She smiled, handing it over to Frank and turning to get back to work before he could argue.

Frank looked at the napkin before folding it open curiously. It was a note.

‘Next coffee is on me. Here’s my number. - Pink. Ps, didn’t your mama tell you it was rude to stare?’

He laughed, a real and rare laugh that Frank didn’t have the pleasure of doing much these days.

Maybe he did have a reason to stay after all.


End file.
